Page 10 of My Grumpy Mountain Man

“Fuck, sunshine, you can’t say it like that. I’m going to lose my mind.”

I scooch closer to let him know I’m not kidding.

He drops his mouth to my breast after freeing it from my swimsuit, licking my nipple, still sore from the cold water.

“This swimsuit looks absolutely perfect on you but I need it off. Can I eat your pussy?”

I nod, feeling excited about him finally losing his restraints.

When I’m completely naked, a hint of embarrassment hits me. “Will anyone see me?”

“Just me. There’s no one else nearby. It’s just us, sunshine. You’re so beautiful. I don’t even know where to start with you.”

I chuckle. “Start where you promised.”

He gives me one sly smile and drops to his knees in front of me, running his tongue from my breast to my belly and stopping right before it reaches the place that’s aching the most.

“You’re a tease!”

He bites my thigh lightly in response. When his lips and tongue find my clit, I’m already too close. It doesn’t make sense. It never felt this good with anyone else. As he finds the right amount of pressure, I cry out his name, my hips bucking against his face.

I grab his hair, not knowing what to do with the pleasure that’s building up inside me. I lean in slightly just so I can touch his shoulders, tracing his tattoo so I can last longer, but it doesn’t work. It makes me shatter completely as his tongue brushes against me. Marcus doesn’t stop until I’m a trembling mess and begging for a rest, wondering if the stars I see coming up in the sky are real or just my imagination.

Marcus’ kisses travel to my thighs, belly, breastbone until he’s right next to me. “You’re amazing, Bethany.” He grabs a strand of my still wet hair, playing around with it. He’s so gentle, nothing like the man he shows to the world.

We listen to the rustling of the trees as night starts to set completely. He holds my hand and somehow it feels like being here right now is exactly where I need to be. Moving here during the summer, raising my hand to get access to the lake, every single action led me here. And I don't know how it'll go from here, but right now all I want is to appreciate this sunset.

Chapter 8 - Marcus

I do a simple stir fry for dinner. It’s not much, but I hope she enjoys it. It was good to see her reaction to this cottage. I’ve done my best to keep it up to date while still keeping its history. She was especially interested in my plant collection. Nature is as important to me inside as well as outside, so I do have a few houseplants. She, of course, scolded me, it seems some of these plants should not be as close to each other as I’ve set them. She gave me a lecture on all of my plants’ major enemies. I didn’t think a city girl like her would know anything about plants. Wrong again. She quickly rearranged them–giving them enough space to make them forget about the ‘whole ordeal’ as she put it–making herself at home. Which I certainly don’t mind. As far as I’m concerned, this is her home as much as it is mine. It sounds delusional to just know. I think I’d laugh if someone ever told me love at first sight is real. But I’d be wrong because I love this woman. So much so that I’ve been avoiding the question that’s been nagging at me for the past hour.

Inviting her to the cottage, making dinner for her is much easier than to ask what’s next for us. It’s not a question I’ve ever asked a woman. The terms of my previous arrangements were always clear: have sex and move on. But if there’s one thingI know is that I don’t want to move on from Bethany. She’s the sunshine that’s missing from my life. I bet the houseplants agree, their leaves seem to shift in her direction. So percolating the question seems exactly the right move, letting my head stir and stir, mimicking my hand movement as I stir our food.

"Thank you for cooking."

"There's no need to thank me. I'm happy to."

She traces her fingers on my arms absently. It's good because I missed her touch. Ever since I started cooking, we haven't touched and I'm losing my mind over it.

"You like my tattoos, don't you? You keep touching them."

Her cheeks turn pink as she pulls her hand back. I grab it and set it down on my arm again.

"I don't mind. I like you touching me."

"I like to touch you too. Not just your tattoos."

She grins like it's normal for us to touch each other. Just not something that has happened today.

"What's the story?" She's just as addicted to tracing my tattoo as I am to her touch. "Behind it."

I wish there was one big story, one that would make her fall in love with me right now. But sometimes we do things that aren’t as deep as people think, just because they look impressive from where they’re standing. My tattoo doesn’t have some sad story or life-altering meaning behind it.

"There's not really a story. Is that boring?"

"Oh, certainly not! Why would you think it's boring?"

"I'm pretty sure you like big gestures and grandiose reasons to do things."

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